Stray Child
by CrimsonStarbird
Summary: Zeref, appalled by Igneel's irresponsible parenting, decides to file a legal claim for custody of Natsu. Oneshot.


_**A/N:** I was in a silly mood. So sue me. Believe it or not, this *is* actually canon-compatible... if you can forgive the liberties I've taken in depicting Fiore's "four hundred years ago" as "like today but with more dragons". (Also, final arc spoilers for anyone refusing to read ahead of the anime). This is not a story to be taken seriously. I hope you enjoy it! ~CS_

* * *

 **Stray Child**

By CrimsonStarbird

* * *

The West Crocus Family Mediation Centre hid behind an unassuming façade. Sandwiched between a nail salon on the ground floor and a firm of accountants on the second, it shared neither the former's gaudy displays nor the latter's sleek professionalism, but faithfully obeyed its calling to mediate between the two: windows clean but not sparkling; furniture expensive but not luxurious; not a tiny establishment, but not large enough to be noteworthy in the most successful of all the human settlements.

This inconspicuous appearance was a favour to its clients, that small subset of the population both unfortunate enough to have a marriage break down yet sufficiently level-headed about it to seek to resolve their differences in civil conversation rather than a courtroom. For them, the visit would be trying enough without having to contend with the judgemental stares of passers-by. A single sign openly declared its name, safe in the knowledge that most would misread it as 'meditation' and continue on their way none the wiser.

Inside the centre's third office, the theme of moderation continued to impress upon its clients the virtues of temperance and compromise. An inoffensive palette of white, black and red complemented the chic furniture and clashed with the great emerald philodendron in the corner. A bubbling tank of goldfish and a clock just loud enough to be irritating provided the clumsy background dissonance: _é_ _lan vital_ and rigid mechanism; free will and inevitability; the wonders of life, and the reminder that it was finite.

It was a peaceful place, light and airy, conducive to the settling of disputes, where countless compromises had been brokered and many severed relationships awkwardly patched up.

It was not the sort of place you'd expect to find an immortal death-mage.

Yet one was there nonetheless, sat in a swanky office chair with his arms folded, one foot tapping out each passing second upon the carpet as the silence stretched on.

The room's only other occupant shuffled the papers on her desk for the third time that minute. A silver nameplate identified her as _Felicity Riyani, Mediator_ – an assurance that despite her mere twenty-something years, she _was_ qualified to mediate disputes. Whether or not she was qualified to mediate this particular dispute – well, that was another matter entirely, and one where decades of experience in dealing with ordinary divorcees wouldn't help one bit.

She wasn't exactly radiating confidence, but then again, people never did when in the presence of the infamous Black Mage. The only exception to that rule was now five minutes late and counting.

Felicity had a brave stab at breaking the silence. "Regrettably, it isn't unusual for one party not to show up to a mediation session. We'll give him another five minutes, but after that, I would recommend rescheduling for another day."

"He'll be here," Zeref said. This he addressed to the drab grey bricks of the building opposite theirs, which was of significantly more interest to him than the woman or her office. "He never passes up a chance to gloat."

"…Right. Well, while we're waiting, Mr Dragneel-"

Now Zeref's attention did jump to her, and she had not realized how much she didn't want that acknowledgement until she was already caught and held in the tar pits of his eyes. "Don't call me that. I abandoned that name long ago."

"…If you say so." Glad of an excuse to look away, Felicity rummaged through the notes on her desk for an alternative. "Then I suppose it will be… Oh."

Her hesitation was obvious, as was her attempt to cover it with a fake smile. It was cute how she thought he cared.

"That's not a name you see very often. Not since the massacre at… well…" She tailed off before she could dig any deeper, chancing a glance at her client in the hope that he might help pull her out.

He did not. "Yes, I do appear to have something of a monopoly on that name, don't I?"

"I mean, it's… I'm not sure…"

"I shan't answer to anything else," he told her calmly.

"I'm just not sure how comfortable I'd feel…"

"Then it seems we've reached an impasse." Zeref leaned back in his chair, completely at ease; the room full of compromises only accentuated the presence of this brazenly polar man. "And there I thought you mediators were supposed to be good at fostering communication."

"…Yes. Zeref it is, then."

She managed a strangled smile. If the way she shifted backwards was any indication, she was exceedingly grateful for the presence of the desk between the two of them. Though she still glanced regularly towards the clock, it was no longer a gesture of mutual exasperation at the third party's tardiness, but a prayer that they might never arrive, and thus the session would be cancelled.

Ah, he really needed to stop doing this.

It was his appearance that did it; he'd have put money on it. Having a body that didn't age was undeniably convenient for someone who couldn't die, but it would have been nice if he'd got a little older before it had frozen in time. As it was, the most dangerous man in the world was stuck looking perpetually like a fourteen-year-old. The juxtaposition of his somewhat harmless appearance with his cultivated disregard for other human beings and utter lack of sympathy for his conversational partners unsettled people more effectively than any demonic countenance.

They hadn't even got through introductions, and the poor girl already looked like she wanted to quit her job, change her name, and live in the mountains as a hermit.

It was going to be a long afternoon.

"So, Mr… Zeref." Felicity ploughed on with a courage that few of his opponents had ever displayed. "This isn't your first time in mediation, is it?"

"Fourth."

"And you haven't yet been able to resolve your dispute?"

"Obviously."

"Now, I've tried to access the details from your previous sessions, but the records seem to have gone missing…"

"Fancy that."

"So, is there anything from those sessions that I ought to be aware of before we start…?"

One building reduced to rubble, three mediators being treated for post-traumatic stress disorder, and a street full of people who each swore blind they had seen the final seal of the apocalypse released.

And that had just been Round One.

"Not really, no," said Zeref.

"Okay, well, that's a good sign. Am I correct in thinking you and your partner are-?"

That got a reaction. Light flashed in Zeref's eyes, stolen from the distant sun. Unnatural shadows darkened the afternoon's glow as he leaned forwards and snarled, "He's _not_ my partner."

"Of course, how tactless of me; I meant to say your ex-partner-"

"We were _never_ partners!"

"If you say so!" Felicity threw up her hands in surrender. Her client was bad enough when he was just being unhelpful, let alone when he was angry. "I'll be more careful not to refer to him as such. Though, just to clarify – you two _are_ arguing over the custody of a child, aren't you?"

"That's right."

"Even though you're not-?"

Her attempt to muddle through the finer points of this unusual case would undoubtedly have tried Zeref's already-strained patience, so it was probably quite fortunate that the window chose that moment to explode inwards.

Amidst a cascade of scarlet-edged crystal a monstrous visage loomed: scales the sun-crowned red of blazing coals; reptilian eyes with wicked-thin pupils; bone-white fangs large enough to sever a man in two. The office at the rear of the mediation agency, which had been gallantly striving to retain its professionalism in the presence the world's most infamous mage, gave up at last, and succumbed to terror and absurdity as a dragon stuck his head in through the shattered window.

Felicity shrieked and fell off her chair.

"You're late," Zeref snapped.

Outside the window, the gigantic dragon was sat in the street, with his tail wrapped cat-like around his legs and his folded wings scraping against the bricks of the houses opposite. He gave his head a quick shake, shedding shards of glass like diamond rain. The cloud of steam exhaled from his nostrils rapidly turned to drifting specks of ice in the freezing aura emanating from the Black Mage.

"Yeah, sorry about that," the dragon breezed. His jovial words carried a ring of levity and an undertone of thunder; his chin was resting upon the carpet as he spoke, and the reverberations of his voice caused the entire building to vibrate. "I had a bit of trouble convincing the guards at the city gate that I was one of the friendly dragons. They didn't believe me when I said that I had an appointment here, though I can't for the life of me imagine why."

Shifting slightly, the best he could do when his horns were all but scraping along the ceiling, the great beast focussed one yellow-green eye on the young woman currently cowering under the desk. "Still," he added, "I'm only five minutes late. Don't tell me you've managed to traumatize our mediator already."

"We were getting on just fine until you showed up," Zeref retorted. Compared to how well his interactions with other human beings usually went, it wasn't actually that great a distortion of the truth. "This is what happens when an uncivilized dragon smashes his way into an office."

"How else was I supposed to get in? This room is far too small. Couldn't you have asked them to move the session to the town hall or something?"

"Why on earth would I go out of my way to make life easier for _you?_ "

The dragon chuckled; the icy words were no more than arrows bouncing from his scales. "Ah, there it is. There's that spite I've missed so much."

"Shut up."

The dragon might have been smirking as he turned his attention to the two hazel eyes peering cautiously over the desk. The sight of the immortal dark mage and the enormous dragon bickering like any old divorced couple had apparently been enough to tempt their mediator out of hiding.

"Hello, there," he greeted her. "I'm Igneel, and I see you've already met my delightful ex, Zeref."

"I am _not_ your ex!" Zeref shouted. "I am not _your_ anything!"

"You're a dragon…" Felicity mumbled, inadvertently providing a distraction before the argument could degenerate into open warfare.

"Yes, well done," Zeref snapped.

"But I thought we were at war with the dragons…"

"Long story."

"Relevant story," Igneel pointed out lightly.

"Which no one wants to hear," Zeref overrode him. "Can we get on with it?"

"…Certainly." The mediator gave a weak smile, righting her chair and sitting back down in it, resigned to the fact that these most unusual clients were hers to deal with. From the familiarity of the documents on her desk, ordinary forms filled in by the most extraordinary beings, she seemed to draw a little comfort. While gods played by mortal rules, ordinary folk had nothing to fear. "Although, before we begin officially, Mr Igneel, sir, I ought to point out that we don't usually allow children to sit in on mediation sessions unless they're over twelve years old."

The modicum of civility which had managed to reassert itself over the little office vanished once again as Zeref jumped to his feet. "You didn't bring him-!"

If a dragon could shuffle guiltily then that was what Igneel did, dislodging a shower of plaster from the ceiling as he tried to avoid the Black Mage's accusing glare and simultaneously stop him from laying eyes on his little passenger. There was a child latched onto his scaly neck, a boy curled up and sleeping peacefully between two large spines.

"Igneel! I told you to leave him with a babysitter!"

"It's not my fault! Metalicana bailed on me at the last minute!" Igneel protested. "His own kid's sick; he said he couldn't manage both of them at once. I couldn't leave Natsu at home unsupervised!"

For all the ferocity in Zeref's eyes, his argument came out oddly broken. "You know he can't- I can't- he can't meet me-"

"It's cool, I used the strongest sleep spell I could find. He's not going to wake up until we're safely back home. I figured it would be best for him that way."

Rather than lashing out, Zeref bit his lip and glanced at the floor; uncharacteristically nervous gestures which, for the first time since he had entered the office, suited the age he appeared to be better than the age he was. He gave a terse nod and sat back down. "Fine. So long as you keep him over there."

The fact that common sense seemed capable of tempering the Black Mage's fury must have been a reassuring sign for their mediator. Felicity glanced bemusedly between the enormous dragon with the tiny human on his back, and the peculiar man whose anger had been fearsome but who now seemed strangely distant, and she seemed to decide that the time had come for someone to take control of the discussion.

She offered the necessary compromise in the spirit of her job, tactfully electing not to raise the moral dubiousness of drugging – sorry, _enchanting_ – a child. "I suppose we can make an exception if this is the child in question."

"He is. This is my son, Natsu," said Igneel.

"This is my brother, Natsu," said Zeref.

They glared at each other.

"…I see." Glancing at the papers on her desk, Felicity tried, "So, as things currently stand, Mr Igneel – Natsu lives with you, is that correct?"

"Indeed. I legally adopted him as my son."

"And Mr Zeref, you are unhappy with this arrangement?"

"Obviously, or, I can assure you, I wouldn't be here." Zeref folded his arms as a means of trying to curb his impatience. Knowing that the questions were mere formalities did not stop them from being frustrating. "As his only living family member, I want Natsu to come and live with me."

"Am I right in thinking that you didn't challenge Mr Igneel's adoption claim at the time?"

"He didn't," Igneel pointed out smugly.

Zeref glowered at the carpet. "Mistakes were made."

"In fact," the dragon continued, heedless. "If I recall, you were actually rather sympathetic to the idea."

"You mean, I thought it was better than the idea of you killing him?" Zeref retorted. "Yes, alright, I'll admit, at first I thought that you raising Natsu would be for the best. Evidence has since come to light which demonstrates the falsity of that statement. I refuse to let this go on any longer. I fully intend to launch a legal challenge to the adoption on the grounds that Igneel is dangerously inadequate as a parent."

"Hopefully that legal challenge is what we'll avoid by reaching an agreement between you two here," Felicity offered, along with possibly the most optimistic smile Zeref had ever seen. "Since you've raised the subject of Mr Igneel's abilities as a parent, why don't you elaborate on some of your concerns? Let's see if we can get a dialogue going between you two."

"Why am I concerned about his abilities as a parent?" Zeref echoed in disbelief, waving his hand towards the huge reptilian head protruding through the shattered window. "Allow me to present Exhibit A: _he's a dragon._ "

"Ah, let me just stop you there," Felicity jumped in. "So you're aware, here at the Family Mediation Centre, we have a zero-tolerance policy towards any kind of discrimination in terms of race. Or… in terms of species."

There was a full minute of silence as Zeref tried and failed to process this.

"But," he insisted, indicating the amused dragon once again. "Look at him! He's ginormous! All he'd have to do is not look where he's putting his foot one day, and that's it, end of Natsu!"

"Hey, I've raised my son to be tougher than that!" retorted the dragon.

" _Furthermore_ ," the Black Mage continued icily, "how do you intend to teach him to use human tools? Kitchen utensils, weapons – even holding a pen is beyond you! What about everyday skills, like cleaning, repairing clothes, or cooking?"

As the dragon opened his terrifying maw to object, Zeref's eyebrows raised alarmingly. "And I mean _proper_ cooking, for the healthy, balanced diet that a human being needs, not just immolating lumps of meat like you usually do! You haven't even thought about it, have you?"

The dragon shrugged, dislodging several bricks from the broken wall. "Figured I'd cross that bridge when I got there."

"And what about human society? How are you going to teach him about shopping, or the theatre, or even about guilds, when you can't go near any human settlements? If he grows up with you, he will never get the chance to live like an ordinary person! In fact, can you hear that distant screaming? That's the sound of people starting to notice that there's a massive dragon in the road! Is this the life you think Natsu should have?"

Astonished silence followed this tirade. Felicity looked mildly impressed.

Coolly, Igneel said, "Whereas _you,_ by contrast, are _always_ hanging around in human society."

"Don't make this about me-"

"How can I _not_ make this about you? Famously sociable, the Black Mage. The life and soul of every party."

"But the point is I _could_ take him shopping if I wanted to, whereas you're too big and clumsy to do anything useful at all," Zeref snapped.

"Oh, absolutely, you could take him shopping in the market… leaving a trail of death and despair behind you. I mean, worst I'm going to do is smash some stalls. Retail therapy with the Black Mage, however, is basically an invitation to a massacre."

"How dare you-?"

"What, were you just not going to mention the whole death aura thing?" Igneel asked, in a tone of mock surprise.

"I- I have it under control!"

"Oh, really? So you're no longer spontaneously killing people, then?"

"I, uh… I am… _mostly…_ not doing that."

"Is that so?" Enormous dragons could pull off 'patronizing' surprisingly well. "When was the last time it happened, then?"

"Well, as it happens – it was, ah… this morning. But it was a one-off! He got in the way!"

"Uh-huh."

"It was an accident, okay? Before this morning, I was on a several-week unbroken run!"

Heedless of his protests, the dragon turned back to Felicity, insufferably smug. "What my friend here isn't telling you-"

" _Not_ your friend."

"Sorry, what my wonderful ex-partner isn't telling you is that he has this whole death-curse thing going on, whereby anyone who gets too close to him spontaneously drops dead-"

"But I can control it!"

"-which he can control, if and only if he doesn't value the lives of the people around him," the dragon finished calmly. "So, of course, he'd make a perfectly good guardian for Natsu – under the condition that he didn't care about him one bit."

"I could do it!" Zeref insisted, fire flashing in his eyes. The art deco desk lamp seemed to quail and dim, but to the dragon, who was enjoying himself immensely, it was merely a sign of encouragement.

"Now, I would be the first to admit that I'm not a perfect parent," Igneel continued, with a dramatic sigh. "Being a dragon and a father isn't easy, and Natsu will have to adapt to that. But I can honestly say that I do love Natsu dearly. Our eminent paradox of a Black Mage, on the other hand, would make an ideal guardian for Natsu, but only if he didn't love him at all. The very act of taking Natsu away from me to ensure his wellbeing would all but guarantee his death. But even if, as he says, he could somehow make it work in a way that didn't kill Natsu… would a normal life in an ordinary human town really make up for having to live unloved by his only family?"

"I would find a way to care for him safely! I know I can do it!"

"Well," Felicity spoke up tentatively. "You've both made some valid points, and it's clear that there are some important unresolved issues between the two of you. However, what's really promising here is the fact that you're both talking openly about your concerns, and that's the first step towards reaching a peaceful resolution."

"Yeah, because talking to _him_ is really what I want," Zeref scowled.

"Okay, well, let's put the matter of who would make the better guardian aside for the time being, and concentrate purely on the legal side of things." Emboldened by the fact that neither the unexpectedly chilled fire dragon nor the live wire of a Black Mage had exploded yet, she elaborated, "So, as we've already established, Mr Igneel is currently Natsu's legal guardian, and, Mr Zeref, you didn't challenge the adoption at the time. That puts any challenge now on rather insecure legal ground."

"I am aware."

"That's why he keeps dragging me to places like this rather than actually taking me to court," Igneel butted in helpfully. "He knows he wouldn't win."

Slightly more confident now that they were back in her area of expertise (and Zeref's anger was turned towards the dragon instead of her), Felicity pointed out, "It's true that he may struggle to win custody, Mr Igneel, but there are other concessions a court may be willing to grant him. Trying to reach a peaceful compromise through mediation is a noble thing to do, especially when there's a child involved."

" _Thank_ you," Zeref muttered.

"A court might, for instance, rule that Mr Zeref ought to have visitation rights. Currently, you have none, am I correct?"

"He won't let me see Natsu. If he senses me anywhere near, he grabs Natsu and flies away."

"And he knows perfectly well why that is," replied Igneel calmly. "That he and Natsu could never meet was a condition of me raising him in the first place – one which we both agreed upon at the time." Softer now, spoken only to Zeref: "It'll be so much harder on him later if he knows who you are."

"Circumstances change! I agreed to it back then because I thought you had Natsu's best interests at heart. Then I discovered that you're irresponsible, reckless, and have no concept of that fact that you can't just raise a child like you would a baby dragon!"

"Oh, come on, what is reckless about my behaviour?"

"If I may interject-" Felicity tried, but it was clear from the hand raised to stall her that no, she may not interject at all.

Angrily, Zeref continued, "To pick just one from countless good examples, how about your habit of flying at ridiculous speeds with Natsu balanced precariously on your back, without any kind of reins or a harness or anything?"

"Reins?" came the indignant response. "I'm not a horse, you know!"

"No, horses are _safe_ ," Zeref retorted. "Only a few feet to fall. Slipping from the back of an inattentive soaring dragon, by contrast, is about as dangerous as you can get."

A flock of pigeons took to the sky as Igneel's carefree laugh shook the entire row of offices. "Danger builds character!"

"You know what _doesn't_ build character? A hundred-mile-an-hour impact with solid ground."

"I'd always catch him before he hit the ground. Besides," the great dragon added, with a crafty glint in his eye; firelight dancing upon the coins of an ancient hoard. "Natsu loves flying with me. He's always pestering me to take him higher and faster every time. Would you really deny him something he loves so much in the name of health and safety?"

For a long time now, Zeref had been trying very hard not to look at the boy curled up between the dragon's spines, focussing instead on Igneel or even their unfortunate mediator, despite her best efforts to avoid drawing his attention. Now, as Natsu became the direct focus of the conversation, he couldn't help but look.

He swallowed and didn't speak for an extended period of time, and it seemed every steady beat of his heart kept perfect time with the rise and fall of the sleeping boy's chest.

"Well, I think I've made my point," Igneel concluded, a smug remark whose main effect was to remind Zeref that there were other people in the room.

Zeref said, "If danger, as you say, _builds character_ , then what issue could you possibly have with Natsu being with me?"

"…Ah."

Making expert use of the tense silence, Felicity pointed out, "As any court would rule, Mr Igneel, you may have custody, but you have no right to prevent Natsu's family from seeing him without good reason. If Mr Zeref here could prove that he was indeed related to your son-"

"If I could _prove_ it?" Zeref echoed incredulously.

"Well… it's standard procedure, Mr Zeref; the courts will require some sort of proof to grant you visitation rights. And with all possible respect, there isn't much of a family resemblance between you and Natsu."

To the background percussion of the ticking clock and the bubbling fish tank was added a most unusual melody: an immortal mage's indignant spluttering.

"I did tell you to dye your hair pink," Igneel said.

"I'm _not_ dyeing my hair. It would ruin my look. What sort of Black Mage has pink hair?"

"I think it would look cute."

"I don't care what you think."

"You'd have to get a new nickname, though. 'Pink Mage' isn't quite as catchy. You'd need something more pretentious, like Mage of the Falling Sakura Blossoms, or The Enchanter of Hearts…"

"I'm not changing my name!"

"Why not? I mean, as far as legendary mages go, you're already the most adorable of the lot; it isn't good for you to have such a misrepresentative nickname. You might as well go all the way-"

"Shut up!"

In an admirable attempt to get the discussion back on track, Zeref jumped to his feet. There was a brief flash of light and several documents appeared in his outstretched hand, which he slammed triumphantly down on their mediator's desk.

"I _can_ prove it, as it happens," he declared. "Birth certificates. Mine and Natsu's. Irrefutable proof that we're family."

Igneel seemed somewhat impressed: "Have you been looking after them this whole time?"

"I had a feeling they'd come in handy."

"That's… actually really sweet."

"Shut up."

"You _are_ adorable!"

"I said, shut up!"

"Umm," Felicity ventured. If there was one thing to be said for her instincts as a professional mediator, she was very good at interjecting just in time to prevent physical fights from breaking out. "Mr Zeref… did you steal these from an archive?"

Zeref blinked. "What?"

"I mean… these can't possibly belong to you and Natsu."

"Why not?"

She ran her finger along the top of parchment beginning to yellow with age. "For one thing, if this was referring to you, you'd be over fifty years old."

"Yes. And?"

"That can't possibly be the case," she said, a statement so obvious that she had no need to spell it out. "And in addition… the Natsu Dragneel here is clearly registered as deceased."

"Yes." Zeref folded his arms. "He was, for a while, but I fixed that."

"You… fixed it?"

"Does he look dead to you?" Zeref demanded, gesturing towards the sleeping boy. "It's not my fault that the authorities failed to update their records."

Felicity gave a heavy sigh. "Look, Mr Zeref… It's sweet that you're so devoted to Natsu that you'd go through the archives to try and find birth certificates that match your names, but it's clear to anyone who looks that these documents can't possibly be referring to you two. However justified you might feel your motives are, stealing is wrong. These belong with their true owners. You should return them as soon as you can."

"But-"

Zeref tried to speak and didn't get further than that one word. He was stopped by an earthquake, which turned out to be Igneel trying not to laugh and failing miserably. The dragon's silent convulsions shook the entire street.

"Oh, yes, it's _hilarious_ ," Zeref snarled, equalling the dragon's mirth with sheer bitterness. "At least I'm trying to operate within the bounds of human society. But you – you couldn't care less, could you? No, you just do what you like, because you're a massive dragon so rules don't apply to you. What sort of example is that setting for Natsu? What kind of man are you raising him to be?"

That accusation stifled the laughter as well as any threat. "I'm raising him to be a fine young man," Igneel retorted; sincere, but shockingly icy for the Fire Dragon King. "I know plenty about human social customs. More than you do, as it happens, because I actually pay attention to human society, rather than just hiding away in magical laboratories like some people I could mention. I can teach him everything he needs to know, far more effectively than you can."

"You can… hang on a minute." A flash of crimson in those pitch-black eyes; the wrong kind of liveliness. " _You're_ teaching him? Are you telling me you're not even sending him to _school?_ "

"School?" Igneel scoffed. "Why would I waste my son's time with a pointless institution like that?"

"Because that's how he'd learn necessary human skills!"

" _You_ never went to school," came the cool response.

Zeref folded his arms. " _I_ was the genius of the family. I taught myself everything I need to know from books, and was accepted into the world's most prestigious magic academy when I was only eight years old. Natsu, regrettably… well, we both know that he's not exactly the academic type. That's why he needs a standard education."

"Nonsense. No dragon's son needs something so pointless. Besides, I know _way_ more than any human teachers."

"About dragons and magic, sure. But what about writing, reading, and numeracy? Classic literature? Elementary economics? Geometry? Astronomy? Politics, current affairs, systems of government, world geography? What about medicine and human anatomy? Or, I don't know, _anything at all_ about how the human world operates?"

"Pff. Who needs to know things like that?"

"This is precisely my point!" Zeref yelled, gesticulating wildly between the highly bemused mediator and the dragon. "You have no concept of how to raise a human child! It doesn't even occur to you that all those things which may well be irrelevant for a dragon are necessary for anyone who will one day have to live in human society! How is Natsu ever going to be able to live as a normal human if you insist upon denying him a normal upbringing?"

Perhaps an enormous fire-breathing dragon was the only beast in the world who had no need to quail before that furious glare. "…Of course," Igneel replied, as casual as anything, "Strictly speaking, he _isn't_ human."

"Stop changing the subject! You can't get out of the fact that you're a negligent parent! Please tell me you're at least teaching him basic literacy!"

"Of course I am," came the indignant response.

"At least that's something…"

" _All_ the words for food."

Zeref blinked at him; once, twice, three times. "…What?"

"If he can go into a restaurant, read the menu, and order takeout, what more does he need?"

"There is more to life than just food, you idiot dragon!"

"Eh, details."

If the way that the temperature in the room dropped several degrees was any indication, Zeref was not impressed by the dragon's laid-back attitude towards education. "You'd better teach him to read and write properly, or I swear, I'll-"

"N-Now, gentlemen, there's no need to make threats, especially not with a child in the room," interjected their mediator. She couldn't detect the magic picking up like a storm around the enraged Black Mage, but she knew it was there; felt it in the speckled shadows thrown by the frost-lined light bulbs, the crawling ice stifling the fish tank's bubbling, the creaking of the already-strained architecture as the air pressure doubled.

It was perhaps fortunate that the old appeal to _think of the children_ happened to coincide with the only thing in the world that Zeref cared about, and thus it successfully diverted his attention away from murderous thoughts and back to the sleeping child. He threw Natsu a shifty glance, as if he had somehow convinced himself that the boy's adoptive father would not notice if he were subtle enough. Igneel _did_ notice, so Zeref haughtily looked away again, making a painful point.

Felicity, taking heart from the fact that the sinister presence had vanished from the room when Zeref's attention had turned elsewhere, pressed on. "This is a serious and valid point that has been raised, Mr Igneel. Mr Zeref would be able to construct a strong case of negligence against you if it turns out you haven't been educating Natsu according to modern standards."

"See?" Zeref scowled to the dragon.

"Alright, alright, I'll try," Igneel grumbled.

"Education is a serious issue," Felicity persisted. "Mr Igneel, if the, uh, logistical difficulties of taking Natsu to school are a problem, I would recommend hiring a personal tutor. I'm sure that learning from another human will help the boy, in the long run."

"That might not be a bad idea," Igneel hummed.

"Tell you what, I'll give you the contact details for a friend of mine." Encouraged by the dragon's response, Felicity whipped out a blank sheet of paper and began scribbling on it eagerly. "She's still training as a teacher, but she's great with kids, and the kindest person you'll ever meet. Most importantly… she's from an old clan of mages, so I doubt she'll bat an eyelid at Natsu's, umm, current familial situation. They've been fighting alongside the good dragons for years."

She folded the page and glanced at Igneel, frowned, and then passed it to Zeref instead, since he actually had hands.

Zeref accepted it reluctantly, well aware that this compromise would cost him one of his greatest assets in this struggle. He objected, "Still, the social aspect of interacting with other children in a school is just as important as what he learns there."

"Ah, but here's the thing," Igneel returned, completely unfazed by the challenge. The fire opals of his eyes glittered as he focussed once more on Zeref. "When it comes to natural intellect, Natsu doesn't really take after you, I'll admit. But that's not the only way in which he is your total opposite. He's very much a people person. He's so friendly, and sociable, and he gets on so well with Gajeel and Wendy."

Zeref narrowed his eyes. "I heard that he fights with Gajeel all the time, and it makes Wendy cry."

"Nah, that's just how they show their affection," Igneel said fondly.

"What kind of _barbarian_ are you raising my brother to be-?" Zeref half-yelped, but, treating the Black Mage's opinions to the same respect he had offered the office window, the dragon ploughed on regardless.

"I was worried too, you know. I was concerned that he was going to struggle to deal with other humans as much as you do – and that it might only get worse, if he's isolated from other people, as you so often are… But he isn't. Not at all. He loves talking to the travellers he meets in the woods. Whether explorer or guild mage, he's always helping them light fires, guiding them through my territory, chatting to them about all the things he's learnt from me, and hearing tales about life in the cities in return… Everyone who passes this way is fond of him. He really is a friendly boy."

"He…"

Zeref managed no more than that one lost word. He stared at the floor and saw something completely different. With one arm wrapped around his body, he seemed smaller than before; closer to the age he appeared than the age he was; bound by feelings he could not articulate in territory unfamiliar to him.

"Yeah," he whispered, more to himself than to anyone else in the room. It wasn't a smile that touched his face, for he had not truly smiled in a very long time indeed. If anything, it was a sadness, a tragedy, a hope he had not been able to discard any more than he could shake the chains of contradiction or the wheel to which they bound him. "Figured he'd be like that. He was never like me. He was… always smiling."

That bright-eyed boy, who ran from adventure to adventure as soon as he could walk. He must have had a dragon's senses even before he'd met Igneel, because no matter how well Zeref hid himself away, Natsu was always able to find him, dragging him out of the library's gloom because there was some very important exploring to be done. He had always been so excited by the most mundane things, excited enough for the both of them, and Zeref's annoyance at being separated from his books never lasted, not when that warm little hand was clinging to his.

It was funny the things he remembered. How long had been the years of apathy and despair, when he had thought those memories discarded, no longer a part of the man he had become? How long those years, with the warmth of family all but forgotten; driven not by the love that had first set him upon this path, but by the terrible hope that it might one day lead to death?

And yet, no matter how much time went by, simply standing in Natsu's presence again brought all those feelings back.

He couldn't run from them. He didn't _want_ to run. No length of time apart would be sufficient to set him free, and for that, he was truly grateful.

"…Hello? Earth Land to Zeref? Anyone home? See, this absentmindedness is precisely why he'd be terrible at raising a child."

"I'm listening," Zeref snapped, angrier than he had intended, because the dragon's snarky comment had been spot-on.

"We were just talking about social support," Igneel filled him in cheerfully. "Felicity here was expressing concerns over the fact that we would both be essentially single parents, and that's never easy, especially when we are denied access to the usual support networks – either by being in self-imposed exile, like your good self, or by being a great and noble dragon."

"Well… I guess so…" Zeref muttered, having not yet found his place in the room again.

"But naturally, as I pointed out to her, I have an excellent network of support. As you well know, four of my friends, also dragons, all adopted human children shortly after I did. We're all in this together. Whether it's babysitting help, or swapping advice for negotiation with human social authorities, we've got each other covered. I can assure you, adopting Natsu was no mere whim of mine. I gave it serious consideration."

"But the fact that you have to take such measures shows how inadequate your social situation is for properly raising a human child! I, on the other hand-"

Igneel interrupted him, "I have four close and highly sympathetic friends in the same situation as myself. How many friends do _you_ have, Zeref?"

There was a moment of delicate silence.

"I have _loads_ of friends!" Zeref protested.

Igneel clarified, mildly, "How many friends do you have, _not_ counting your demons?"

"…Why can't I count my demons?"

"Artificial friends don't count."

"But they adore me!"

"Only because you made them that way, which is cheating, and also a bit creepy," Igneel pointed out. "Not to mention, they don't know anything you don't, which makes them useless as sources of advice, don't you think?"

"They could still run errands for me," grumbled Zeref.

"Putting aside what that seriously messed-up family-servant scenario would do to my son, what's important here is the fact that you don't have any friends because you spend most of your life wandering aimlessly around in forests. What kind of environment is that in which to raise a child?"

As much as Zeref wanted to refute that, there was nothing technically incorrect about the dragon's characterization of a vast portion of his life. It was difficult to settle down when you had a reputation like his. "I- well, obviously I wouldn't do that if Natsu was around-"

"No, of course not," came the coolly patronizing response. "No doubt you'd see this as an opportunity to purchase that family home you've always dreamed of: centre of Crocus, heart of the community, constantly surrounded by other people and participating in all the festivals, activities and parties which human society has to offer… or is there maybe some big important reason why you haven't done that thus far?"

When Zeref opened his mouth, the dragon cut him off pre-emptively. "And there's no point blaming your current lifestyle on your curse. Even at the academy you were considered a recluse – and this by professors whose outdoor lifestyles made vampires look like heliophiles."

"I could do all that if I wanted to! I just haven't yet wanted to!"

"Ah, of course. That's our Black Mage, notorious for his ability to fit seamlessly into any society…"

"But I _could!_ " Zeref protested."If I absolutely had to! Whereas you could never live in a human settlement, no matter how hard you tried! If Natsu stays with you, it's not just education he'll be lacking – it's basic human amenities! I mean, where are you even living with him? Some kind of cave?"

"It's a very nice cave. Natsu decorated it himself."

"But it's no place to raise a child! It's unhygienic!"

"I resent that. Natsu and I have a housework rota."

"And what, exactly, are you going to do in winter?"

"There's central heating, provided by yours truly. Us fire dragons are much cheaper than state-of-the-art boiler systems, and there's no chance of a breakdown in the middle of winter either."

"Light?"

"Me again."

"Infrastructure? Transportation?"

"Also me. One big red flying taxi, at your service."

A glowering Black Mage, and a dragon whose scaly features couldn't express smugness in a manner which humans could easily read, but it mattered little when the superiority was rolling from him in almost-tangible waves.

Felicity volunteered, "I must say, Mr Igneel, it does seem as though you've thought of everything. A court may well concede that you are capable of providing a stable, if unorthodox, home for a growing child."

"Thank you."

Zeref shouted, "Don't encourage him! I cannot believe someone who is trained in child welfare is telling me she's fine with a dragon raising my little brother in a cave in the middle of nowhere!"

"And there it is," Igneel smirked. "I was beginning to miss your endearing inability to get your head around human social interactions, but no, you're just as wonderfully clueless as ever."

"I am neither endearing nor wonderful! No one embodies the opposite of those sentiments more than I! And nor, for that matter, am I clueless!"

"Oh, really? So you've put a lot of thought into finding a suitable home for Natsu, have you?"

"As it happens, yes. Yes, I have. And good luck finding a jury who will rule that your cave in the middle of nowhere is more suitable for a child than my palace."

Zeref had thought that an impressive declaration, one worthy of his opponent's swift and unconditional surrender. The frown on Felicity's face, however, didn't quite match the awestruck expression he had been hoping for. "A… palace, Mr Zeref?"

"Well, he calls it a palace," Igneel interjected. "But I've seen it, and it's more like the biggest mud hut in a village full of smaller mud huts."

At the mediator's bemused look, Zeref hastily corrected, "Fine, it may not be much to look at right now, but that's not my fault; the dragons utterly ruined the place and it's going to take a while to catch up to the level of civilization here in Ishgar. But it doesn't change the fact that I _am_ an emperor-"

"It's more of a glorified tribal chieftain position, really."

"-which means there are a lot of people doing what I tell them to, including servants, housekeepers, chefs, and people who can actually make furniture. Unlike the best this dragon has to offer."

To Zeref's dismay, however, Igneel's unflattering portrayal of his admittedly fledgling empire had not helped Felicity's scepticism. "I suppose that _does_ sound promising, but… where exactly is this, uh, palace of yours, Mr Zeref?"

"It's… on the continent of Alakitasia."

"Alakitasia? I thought all human civilization there had been destroyed by the mad dragons…"

"It wasn't _completely_ destroyed," Zeref protested.

Igneel piped up, "No, only to the point where you could show up one day and have the locals believe you were some kind of god because you happened to still have all your limbs…"

That was the last time Zeref was ever telling that damn dragon any anecdotes from his travels.

"There was slightly more to it than that," he grumbled. "Just you wait. One day, it's going to be an almighty empire capable of wiping all trace of your pathetic country off the map- hey!"

This became an indignant shout as Igneel rolled his eyes at Felicity, whose expression became sincere, and even a little patronizing. What happened to her fear? When did she forget he was an infamous mage, and start treating him like the child he appeared to be?

It was, so he was discovering, difficult for even him to come across as intimidating when there was a massive great dragon refusing to take him seriously. He got the unhappy feeling that she was picking sides, and not in his favour. Maybe he should start killing off her goldfish one by one until she re-evaluated the wisdom of her choice.

"Is he, umm, alright?" Felicity asked Igneel, in a sideways whisper.

"Oh, he's always like this," came the cheerful response. "Perfectly sane one moment, and then the next he's convinced that he's emperor of a continent which everyone knows is too primitive to even understand what an empire _is_ , with some generic death threats thrown in while we're at it…"

Zeref spluttered unintelligibly.

Exchanging concerned looks with their mediator, Igneel added in an undertone, "He didn't take our break-up very well."

"…Mr Zeref, the stress of going through a difficult break-up can manifest in very different ways. I can refer you to an excellent private counsellor-"

"What? No, I don't need counselling!" came Zeref's startled shout.

"Psychiatrists would have a field day with you," Igneel snorted. "They'd want to cut your brain out and put it in a museum."

"That's not what counsellors do," Felicity sighed. "And, for the record, Mr Zeref, there's nothing shameful about admitting that you need help, and if you are having, uh- delusions on any scale-"

"Wait, no, that's not what's going here, I swear; just get on a boat and I'll _show_ you the country I'm building-"

Keeping a straight face only by virtue of his being a dragon, Igneel affected a slow, sorrowful shake of his head. "I think it's cute how far you'll go to try and prove you'd be a suitable guardian for Natsu, but inventing fictitious countries isn't going to help anyone. You can't raise Natsu in an empire that only exists inside your head, and besides, no court in Ishgar would accept your far-fetched claims about building a country from a decimated continent."

Then, finally allowing himself that smirk, he added, "Plus, as Natsu and I happen to be residents of Ishgar, any case you bring against me must by law be heard here. So even if there was, hypothetically, some country in which your political standing might help you to secure a favourable outcome from the court, it would be of no use to you whatsoever."

"…I _hate_ you."

"Oh, I've missed that indignant outrage. You know, things are never as lively without you around. The day you demanded a divorce was the saddest of my life."

"We were never married!" Zeref fumed. "Stop acting like we were!" With a great effort of will, he scowled at the goldfish bubbling away in the corner until he had his temper back under control. "Look, can we just get on with the actual session?"

"…Certainly." Felicity shuffled the papers on her desk. "It seems the two of you have many unresolved issues, and it may well be the case that you'll have to resolve your conflict in a courtroom. So, while we're discussing legal issues, it may be a good idea to examine another matter which will certainly come up in a court of law – that is, the matter of criminal records."

"…No, I've changed my mind, let's not do this," Zeref moaned, putting his head in his hands.

"Oh, yes, let's!" Igneel exclaimed. "This is my favourite part!"

"Look, come on." Waving his arm towards the dragon, Zeref tried desperately to divert attention away from himself. "He's an enormous terrifying man-eating dragon."

"Enormous, yes; terrifying, maybe; but I definitely don't eat people. Only the evil dragons do that."

"He's burnt villages to the ground, stolen treasure to make his hoard, kidnapped maidens-"

"I think you might be getting your facts and your mythology a little mixed up there, my friend," Igneel countered. "What on earth would I want a maiden for? I suppose I could teach her Dragon Slayer magic, but I'm not sure I can handle more than one child at once."

Felicity nodded earnestly. "Mr Zeref, it does sound an awful lot like you're just extracting all the worst bits from the stories we tell to scare children, and turning them into baseless accusations. Mr Igneel has been nothing but civil this entire session."

"But, but-!" the Black Mage floundered. " _Look at him!_ Between his size, his loudness, and the destruction he's already done to the street and your office, he's breaking about five town ordinances just by being here!"

"He can't help being large," Felicity defended. "Perhaps our city is in the wrong, for not having sufficient equality and access regulations to allow our dragon allies to use our services. And, I believe I have already made it clear that I am not prepared to rule on what Mr Igneel may or may not have done based purely on the fact that he's a dragon."

"I cannot believe this."

"Oh, _I_ can," Igneel grinned. "See, I'm a perfectly respectable father. Now, Miss Felicity, I don't suppose you happen to have a copy of dear Zeref's criminal record, do you?"

"I do, as it happens." From the bottom of the pile on her desk she retrieved a small dossier, barely thick enough to contain a single sheet of paper.

That was odd. Zeref held his breath, hardly daring to hope that _this_ time, some administrative error might turn the situation to his advantage.

"Are you sure that's his?" Igneel checked. "It seems a little… small."

"Of course it's right," Zeref jumped in. "Because I, too, would make a perfectly respectable guardian for Natsu."

"Hmm, that's odd," Felicity mused, opening the almost-empty dossier. "There's a sticky note here which says, 'see top drawer'."

"…Ah."

Zeref watched bleakly as she opened the uppermost drawer of her filing cabinet to reveal row upon row of innocuous brown folders, each crammed full of official papers spanning several decades and nations; a sociologist's dream and a prospective guardian's nightmare.

"Here it is," she announced, pulling out one folder that was full to bursting and dropping it onto the table with a definitive thud.

Zeref gave it a baleful look.

Felicity was still digging through the drawer. "Oh, hang on, this one's got your name on it too." She threw down an even larger file than the first. "And there's another…"

Igneel advised her, "Might as well just pull the whole drawer out. They'll all be his."

"Umm, Mr Zeref…" Felicity began, more bemused than fearful; perhaps she had not quite grasped the implications of a filing cabinet full of past crimes. "Would you care to explain all this?"

Zeref folded his arms and said nothing. In the corner of the room, the goldfish had vanished into their fake sandcastle.

Igneel answered for him. "This, in a nutshell, is why he knows he can't win against me in court. Why don't you take a look inside? If I recall, volume three makes for very entertaining reading."

"Let me see…" Their mediator, perhaps unwisely, picked up the appropriate folder. "There's a record here for five cases of grievous bodily harm…"

"That's unusual," Igneel remarked.

Felicity agreed, "Yes, we don't often get cases that severe here-"

"No, I mean it's unusual that it was only GBH and not manslaughter." Igneel gave Zeref a curious look. "What, were you feeling particularly merciful that day?"

Zeref remained stubbornly silent.

"Next there's… the murder of two priests and the theft of the ancient tome they had been keeping safe…"

"Now that sounds more like your sort of thing, Zeref," the dragon pointed out.

"It's not like they were _using_ that book," Zeref grumbled. "Valuable secrets of temporal magic, wasting away in some insignificant church – _that's_ the real crime here."

"Uh-huh."

"I gave its keepers plenty of warning! I wouldn't have hurt them if they'd just handed it over, like I asked. You can't hold me accountable for that."

"I think a jury would beg to differ on that point," said Igneel. "People shouldn't have to go out of their way to _not_ be murdered. What's next, Miss Felicity?"

"Umm… arson, leading to multiple fatalities."

"Arson?" Zeref frowned. "I don't remember that. What did I supposedly set fire to?"

"According to this record, you set off an enormous explosion in the centre of a city called Arion, resulting in an uncontrollable blaze which claimed the lives of over sixty people."

"Ah! No, see, that one wasn't me!" Zeref pointed out triumphantly. "Jackal did that."

"Acting on your orders," Igneel countered.

"Certainly not. I never told him to blow up anything on that day."

"No – you just made him _really_ fond of explosions, failed to teach him the distinction between inanimate objects, which are acceptable to blow up, and living human beings, which are not… and then pointed him in the direction of a town."

"…Okay, sure, I might have done that, but I still refuse to accept any direct responsibility for that incident."

Igneel gave a weary sigh.

"There's also an old record here for… the massacre at the Mildian Academy of Magic," Felicity read. She seemed once again as nervous as she had been when Zeref had first entered her office, though he and the dragon were too focussed upon each other to notice.

"Now that one was famously you," Igneel pointed out. "So unless you're going to spin some wonderful conspiracy theory and try to convince us that you were framed…"

Zeref's response came as a strangled shout. "But that was an _accident!_ You can't bring that up; _it's not fair!"_

"Oh? So, you're never going to do that again, are you?"

"That's not…" Zeref's voice cracked, and he swallowed and tried again. "I know how to stop it from happening, now… I've been trying…"

The dragon's voice was softer now than it had ever been. "I know you're trying, and I know it isn't easy for you, but we've known each other for a while now. And sure, on a good day, you can sit in an office and have a civilized conversation with me, but you're always just one bad day away from becoming the villain that most of society already sees you as. That's when you let your demons loose; you hurt and kill and steal and it means nothing to you, as long as you get what you want. But even on the days when you know these things are wrong and choose not to do them, your curse makes them happen anyway, just like that day at the academy…"

"You think I don't know that?" Zeref hissed.

"I think you haven't fully thought through the consequences, when it comes to raising Natsu. Even if you can come up with a way of staying around Natsu without killing him, what will the consequences of such a coping mechanism be for the ordinary people your lives intersect with, when you can afford their existences no weight whatsoever? How must you act, to prove their lives have no value? The cost of you being 'safe' is spelled out clearly in these criminal records."

"But… I know that I can do it…"

"Natsu isn't like you, Zeref. Even if you can somehow win that struggle against yourself every single day, you'll constantly be dealing with pressures he can never understand. Being in an environment like that will only hurt him. He deserves to have as happy a childhood as possible… don't you think?"

"I…"

Against his better judgement, Zeref's gaze drifted once again to the blissful boy – and remained there, unblinking, as all thoughts other than of him returned to sleep in the Black Mage's mind.

"Hmm?"

"I thought, if I could be with Natsu, things wouldn't be like that."

"Things _will_ be like that. You know this as well as I do." Gentle words, calming, spoken not to wind him up or treat him like a child, but given to him as an equal. "That's why you let me take him in the first place. He has to be kept away from you, for his sake and for yours. It was the right decision then, and it's the right decision now."

Zeref looked again at Natsu, and then to the dragon. Light flashed in his eyes, and it wasn't from the lamp or the late afternoon sun, but something far less mundane. "No. I won't accept that."

There was a long moment of silence, and then the dragon closed his eyes heavily.

"Then we shall have to agree to disagree," Igneel concluded, a spark of levity forced back into his voice. "That's a shame. I thought I was going to be able to talk you out of this farce of a legal challenge for sure this time."

"You never had any intention of engaging in constructive dialogue, did you?" Zeref snarled. "You only came here to gloat that you have Natsu and I don't."

"That's not the _only_ reason…"

Zeref jumped to his feet again, sending his chair clattering to the ground. It wasn't subtle this time, his aura, and it wasn't unintentional either. Both the learned dragon and the mediator who didn't know the first thing about magic could see it clearly: the shimmering air around his body; the angry buzzing of ethereal insects; the invisible wind made visible by the emptiness it left behind, as it drained the colour from everything it touched.

"One bad day, you said," he hissed. "That was all it would take. Well, if you refuse to take me seriously, I'll show you what a bad day looks like."

Igneel might have sighed. "No, you won't. Not today. I know your heart isn't in it."

"You don't know anything!"

"As it happens, I know quite a lot, which you'd have realized by now if you actually listened to me. But, you never do. You always think you know best."

"I _do_ know best!"

The dragon gave a sad shake of his head. "And this is precisely why the marriage fell apart."

"WE WERE NEVER MARRIED!" Zeref howled. He raised his hand and the seething wind moved with him, roiling, flowing, rising; all those years of loneliness and despair given form.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Igneel asked, and although his voice was as light as it had been since the moment he had burst into the office, there was something else too, something severe, in the moment which teetered on the edge. "If you miss me, you'll hit Natsu."

"I won't miss." A cold voice, a dark voice, a blade cutting through that howling storm. "You're a _very_ big target."

"Will you take him from me by force, then?"

A bitter smile twisted Zeref's lips. "You were a fool to bring him so close to me."

"Maybe so," came the soft response. "I wonder, though… is this really how you think Natsu's guardian should act?"

They stared at each other, crimson red burning in the Black Mage's eyes, and something wise and almost sorrowful in the dragon's opalescent irises; an understanding, and perhaps even an empathy, that could bring together two very different individuals for the sake of a sleeping child.

Zeref let his hand fall back to his side, and the magic that consumed all life vanished back into the aether. "No," said he. "I didn't come here to fight."

With the return of light and life to the room, all its occupants could breathe a little easier. A modicum of cheer entered the dragon's tone – it may have been relief, but even if it was, it had nothing to do with his own safety. "Well, as much as I hate to be the bearer of bad news, you may not have a choice in the matter."

"…Why?"

"She pressed the button."

Zeref blinked – and then realized the dragon was referring to the woman they had both forgotten was in the room with them. She had done admirably well in brokering a productive discussion between two most unusual clients, carried along by a tide of surreal bemusement, but not even she could perceive the convergence of death in all its tangible beauty as anything other than dangerous. Zeref glanced over to find her pressed against the far wall, watching him with the deer's wide-eyed fright.

"You didn't, did you?" he asked, and it wasn't a threat, but a lament, bleak as the winter's night. She shivered beneath his gaze and said nothing, and he sighed. "Oh, just what I needed…"

Igneel glanced up at the clock. "Fifteen minutes. You know, I think that's a new record – longest time spent by the Black Mage in a mediation session before the mediator presses the panic button. You should be proud. It certainly blows last time's disastrous two minutes and twelve seconds out of the water."

"Shut up," Zeref retorted, though it didn't contain half the venom he had directed towards the dragon earlier. He seized his fallen chair and wedged it beneath the door handle, a crude barricade for the office's only entrance.

The security guards would be here any minute now. Mediation agencies, so he had discovered, usually had a pair on standby for the mediators to call if things became violent between the divorced couples they dealt with. When the Black Mage and his dragon had started utilizing the service, the buttons hidden on the underside of the desk had acquired a new purpose: to summon the guards before one or the other of their clients could harm the mediators themselves, intentionally or otherwise.

Felicity was standing beside the fish tank in a vain attempt to blend in with the furniture. The realization that her clients knew what she had done brought with it a far greater concern: she was now trapped inside the room with them.

When Zeref's inky gaze jumped across to her, however, it contained none of the fury she had been expecting, and the energy surrounding him remained dormant. He said, quietly, "Stay over there, and I won't hurt you."

Igneel broke the tension – and the rest of the wall – by pulling his head back out of the window, pouring glass rain and brick hailstones onto the street below. "Well, I'll be getting out of here," he announced. "I don't want Natsu being caught up in any of this."

Zeref gave a quiet grunt of acknowledgement.

The dragon persisted, "Are you going to fight?"

The Black Mage gave a heavy sigh; ran a hand through his hair. For the first time, all those years invested in experimentation with life and death were plainly visible on his face. No one seeing him in that moment could have mistaken him for a teenager.

"I don't think I'll have a choice," he said. "They're hardly going to let me walk away, are they? I'll try to break through and then run before too many people get hurt."

Even with his wings folded tightly against his sides, Igneel filled the entire width of the street like a river of magma carving through the rocks. When he twisted his head to gaze back through the shattered window, one rogue spine punched through a drainpipe on the far side of the street, adding a steady flow of water to the debris already littering the cobblestones crushed beneath his feet. Still, he lingered in that uncomfortable, confined space, watching the mage with one glittering eye. "Want a ride?"

An alarming scowl crossed Zeref's face. "Not from _you!_ "

Someone tried the office door. The chair caught and held it shut, prompting an angry chorus from the other side.

"If you're sure." Igneel made to shrug but thought better of it, given his current physical predicament. There came another crash from the far side of the door; the chair strained, but held firm.

"Then again," the dragon added, a serpentine slyness edging into his tone. "After everything you said earlier about me being irresponsible, I'd have thought you'd have jumped at the chance to come with me. After all, I'll be flying pretty high and definitely very quickly in order to get away from here, and with Natsu being asleep and all… don't you think it would be a lot safer if someone was looking after him?"

Zeref's gaze drifted unwillingly to the boy still curled up between the dragon's spikes, contentedly oblivious to the chaos about to unfurl. He bit his lip again; a gesture so contrary to the image he usually projected that it could only have been true. With a shower of roof tiles, the dragon cocked his head knowingly; teasingly.

"Alright, _fine._ "

As a worrying crack splintered its way across the door, Zeref broke into a run, flinging himself through the hole in the window and landing upon the great dragon's back. Finding a suitable place to sit, he scooped up the still-sleeping Natsu in one arm and wrapped the other tightly around Igneel's nearest spike.

"I'm only here to make sure Natsu doesn't fall," he scowled. "This is _me_ helping _you,_ not the other way round."

"Yes, yes," Igneel smirked.

And then the dragon set off down the street at a run, much to the astonishment and terror of the people in the buildings. Breaking out into the open, he was free to spread his wings at last, leaping into the air with a single wingbeat powerful enough to send benches and lampposts flying. His arrowhead tail clipped a church's spire, and then those crimson wings thundered once more and human civilization was far behind them, along with the laws and the customs which suited neither of them.

The sun sank lower as they soared along in silence, until the golden meadows below them were the same burning crimson as the fire dragon's wings. They had not passed over a village for a while now. Empty roads and the odd farmhouse provided the only signs of civilization in the heart of the western farmlands.

It was here, out in the wilderness with no humans in sight, that Zeref, with Natsu still peacefully asleep in his lap, reached out and knocked against Igneel's scales. "Here will do," he called.

"You sure?" Igneel shouted back. "I'll take you further, if you want. I don't mind going across the sea – it's been a while since I've had the chance to fly so far."

"No, I'm not going back there until I've finished my work here. Building a country is too distracting. There's always something that needs doing, and the next thing I know, weeks have gone by and I haven't opened my books once. They'll manage without me for a few years."

"Suit yourself." Adjusting the angle of his wings, the dragon began to glide gently down towards the fields. "How's your research going?"

There was a long silence, but in the end, Zeref answered quietly, "Not as well as I'd hoped. I know how to create a connection to the future, that's simple enough, but I can't make it stable…"

"You've got time. You'll get it working."

Zeref shifted uncomfortably at the dragon's effortless expression of confidence in him; the strangeness of receiving a genuine if offhand compliment from the one who was a little too fond of mocking him. "If Acnologia suspects what we're up to…"

"He won't. He's too busy hunting the last dragons to realize that it's humankind who poses the greatest threat to him." A growly, mirthful laugh. "Power is the only thing he understands. The thought that dragons and humans might team up to stop him won't occur to him, let alone that we might place our faith in a plan this ambitious in time and scope…"

"I'm only helping you because it happens to overlap with what _I_ want," Zeref muttered, out of habit.

"Maybe so, but either way, we're in this together now."

Zeref glanced at Natsu and said nothing.

The ground loomed up in front of them. Igneel took the landing at a run, ploughing through the wildflower meadow in an explosion of dandelion fluff and rainbow petals, and slowed to a stop beside the deserted country road.

When Zeref jumped down to the ground, Natsu was still in his arms. He was holding the boy with exquisite care, just like he had in another lifetime, gentle and kind. Natsu's thin arms were wrapped tightly around his neck, and his head was at ease on his shoulder. It must have been uncomfortable for Zeref, but he did not speak a word of complaint – rather, he only held the boy tighter and glared up at Igneel in defiance: _I dare you to try and take him away from me._

But Igneel did no such thing. He fell into step as they began walking down the road, taking long, slow paces to allow his human companion to keep up. His tail swished patiently back and forth through the long grass.

"So," Igneel said. "We'll do this again in three months, yeah?"

"Huh?"

"That's how long it usually takes for you to find some poor, unsuspecting mediation firm, schedule an appointment, and hit me with a court injunction to make sure I attend, isn't it?" the dragon grinned.

"What on earth makes you think I _want_ to do this?"

"It's fun, isn't it? The two of us getting together like this, reminiscing about the good old days, seeing how long it takes for you to snap, and of course, always ending with you finding some new and creative way to traumatize our mediator…"

"It's not _always_ me _,_ " Zeref muttered, a familiar scowl finding its way back to his face. "You ate the last one, remember?"

"Oh, yeah." The dragon chuckled at the memory. "I spat him out again though."

"Well then, I'm sure he's absolutely _fine_."

Chuckling a little at the sarcasm that had slipped into the other's voice, an accidental sign of familiarity, Igneel turned his gaze towards the sunset; the sky's fiery furnace reflected in the distant ocean's depths. "Still, since we both know that there's no way you could ever win custody of Natsu from me in a true legal battle, I can only assume that you're arranging these sessions because you secretly love spending time with me… unless there's some other reason?" he teased.

 _He knows._

Instinct drove Zeref to pull Natsu still closer, and only the awareness that the dragon had waited until now to bring it up stopped him from lashing out with magic.

As if he hadn't noticed, Igneel continued, "What are the odds, do you think, that when I go and visit Metalicana tomorrow, I'll find out that it's no coincidence his kid fell ill today of all days?"

Zeref said nothing. He glared at the ground, not even giving the other that satisfaction.

"What did you do?" The dragon sounded far more curious than annoyed. "A curse? Poison, perhaps? Aha! You got one of your demons to do something, didn't you?" Still nothing, but the dragon wasn't expecting a response. "Well, as long as it wasn't anything permanent…"

"He'll be fine by tomorrow."

"Good. You know, you almost had me fooled back in the office. You were so afraid of Natsu being there that I nearly didn't realize you had arranged this whole thing just to see him. It's a good job I know you well enough to appreciate that wanting to see him and _not_ wanting to see him aren't at all mutually exclusive, when you're involved."

Zeref had been expecting the accusation, and he endured it with stoic silence. What he hadn't been expecting was for the dragon to look directly at him, and add, softly, "You know, you don't have to go to such lengths just to find out how Natsu's getting on."

"Yes, I do!" he exclaimed, startled into anger. "You won't let me see him!"

"I won't let you _meet_ him. And we both know why that is – just imagine what it will do to him, knowing you as a friend and a brother before learning what he has to do… and imagine what living with him will do to you. But that doesn't mean I won't let you _see_ him."

"You fly off with him as soon as I get close!"

Igneel heaved a sigh. "What I object to is you showing up out of the blue. When you just appear like that, and I have no means of determining your mood or your motive – can you blame me for acting cautiously?"

"What do you mean, motive? I can't even want to see my own brother without being suspected of having some ulterior motive, now?"

There was a pause as Igneel tried to find a way of putting it tactfully, struggled, and decided to just be blunt. "I know you love him, and I know you _need_ him. But can you honestly guarantee that your curse isn't going to make you wake up one morning, utterly convinced that he's a threat to your immortal life and thus that he has to die?"

"I… I don't know." Little more than a whisper. "I don't _think_ that would happen… but I can't be certain that it won't."

"Neither can I." Then, returning a touch of brightness to the conversation, Igneel concluded, "But that won't be a problem, if you let me be in charge of when you get to drop by. As important as it is that Natsu doesn't see you, there's no reason why _you_ can't see _him_ , provided we're careful about it. If we were to discuss things beforehand… establish boundaries we can both agree on… well, you coming by occasionally might not be such a bad thing. Even if it is just to check that I'm fulfilling my educational duties as a parent."

"…I can't _believe_ how lax you've been on that front."

The dragon gave an embarrassed chuckle. "You should give that tutor a call. If she really is knowledgeable about magic and willing to teach the children of dragons, she might be useful to have on board."

"Maybe I will." Carefully, so as not to disturb Natsu, Zeref drew the slip of paper from his pocket and unfolded it one-handed. "Anna Heartfilia, huh? I suppose she can't make things _worse_."

For a little while, Zeref walked on without speaking, listening to Igneel's humming and the soft sigh of Natsu's sleepy breaths.

"Why?" he demanded suddenly; accusatorily. "Why are you suddenly willing to make compromises for my sake?"

"Because it's obvious how much you care about Natsu," the dragon replied, without hesitation. "I was never quite sure what your true intentions were in all of this, but after today, I feel as though I can trust you more to have his best interests at heart." His wings half-flared in a way that might have been a dragon's equivalent of a shrug. "Maybe it's just because I'm a parent now, but I think I can appreciate, just a little, how difficult it was for you to let me take him in the first place. That it was necessary didn't make it hurt any less, did it?"

"You don't understand anything."

"Maybe I don't," Igneel conceded, complacently. "But… let's meet up, every once in a while. Not in some silly formal situation, but just you and me, like we used to, somewhere far away from anyone else."

"What, just so you can mock me, like you did today?"

"Not at all. I like spending time with you. When you get serious, it reminds me of how things used to be between us. It feels a little nostalgic… it's nice."

"Stop acting like we were married. We researched Dragon Slayer magic together; that's literally _it._ We barely even qualify as friends."

"…You're also a lot of fun to tease."

"I hate you."

"Sure, sure," Igneel breezed. "But if we were to meet up, I wouldn't mind filling you in on how Natsu is doing. What he likes, what he dislikes, what he's been up to, what he's learnt, what he's _like…_ all the things you'd never otherwise get to see. And we can discuss, _maybe,_ the possibility of you coming by our home one day when Natsu's asleep, and sitting with him for a little while."

Again, Zeref was silent.

Gently now, the dragon reasoned, "This isn't going to last forever. Once you've managed to get a method of time travel working – and I know you will – you're going to have to wait for him for a _very_ long time. But that day isn't here yet, so there's no need to act like it is. I'm fairly confident in saying that you love Natsu more than you dislike me. Don't let your pride come between you and the only source of light in your life."

"…I'll think about it."

That was the closest thing to agreement Igneel was going to get, and he knew it. Turning his attention towards the sunset, he pondered, "In the meantime, however, I need to get home before nightfall, so I'm going to have to ask for my son back."

"…Alright."

Zeref detached Natsu's tight grip and lifted the boy away from him. Igneel rested his head on the ground, allowing Zeref to set Natsu safely onto his back. As the dragon stood up again, a majestic silhouette against the beautiful heavens, Zeref warned, "Fly safely, Igneel."

"I will. Take care of yourself, Zeref." This just prompted a disgruntled noise in response, and the dragon might have smiled – not a smug grin, or a gleeful smirk, but a genuine smile; a kindness that had only become kinder the longer he spent with his adopted son. "It's alright to ask for help every once in a while. Let me know when you've made up your mind."

Zeref did not respond to that, instead stepping back and glaring up at the dragon with a well-honed scowl. "If Natsu still can't write by the time I meet him properly, there'll be trouble."

"Yes, yes," the dragon chuckled.

With that final warning, the Black Mage turned on his heel and strode off down the road. He did not look back. He thought he might not have been able to keep walking if he did.

Igneel watched him go. The smile was back, for those who could read a dragon's facial expressions well enough to see it, and there was a fondness sparkling within his opalescent eyes; one that for so long had appeared for no one but his beloved son.

"Why does it feel sometimes as though I'm raising both the Dragneel children?" he asked the sunset dryly, before spreading his wings and making his own way home.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** And we're done. I hope you enjoyed my silly little story! Thanks for reading! ~CS_


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